Bay Laurel's Story
by A Caccia Di Stelle
Summary: A young girl named Bay Laurel takes Katniss's place as Primrose's volunteer. Effie Trinket grabs the slip of paper beside Peeta's instead. Now two very different people have been called to represent District 12 and their Games will be nothing like the Games before. This time, everything is different. Read and review, please.
1. Chapter 1

"Bay Laurel," a soft, feminine voice called from the other side of the door, "it's time to get up. The reaping is in a few hours."

"I'm awake," I responded. I'd been awake for hours, actually. The nights before the reaping were always long and restless, filled with anxious visions of my name being picked from the large ball of names.

The door opened slowly to reveal a small woman with long red hair and troubled green eyes, my mother Jewel. She looked out of place among the people of District 12, but she was still beautiful. I shared her looks, though my hair was darker, my eyes were more defined, and I lacked her abundant curves.

"What's that?" I asked, noticing the dark material she clutched in her hand.

"Your new dress," she answered. "You said last year your old one was getting too small, so I made you a new one. I've been working on it for a while now."

I took the dress from her and held it up to examine it. It was a pretty green with dull buttons filing down the chest.

"It matches my eyes," I observed. She smiled slightly and leaned forward to kiss my forehead.

"Happy birthday, Bay Laurel. Go ahead and get dressed. Breakfast is ready when you get done."

She left me to discard my nightclothes and tug my dress on. The material was soft against my skin and snug against my abdomen, stopping just below my knees. Satisfied with my attire, I walked into the kitchen.

My mother was the tailor for District 12, so we lived decently (compared to others, anyways). We could be better off or worse off –her occupation left us right in the middle.

I sat at the table and a bowl of oatmeal was placed in front of me. My stomach tightened in protest at the thought of food, but I picked up the spoon and started to eat anyways.

Loud footsteps sounded behind me as my stepfather, Marc, sat down beside me. He was a big, handsome man, his shoulders broad and squared, with a well mix of laugh lines and frown lines etched into his features. "Happy birthday, Bay," he said with a grin. "Seventeen, huh? You're going to be as old as me soon."

"You're ancient, not old." I retorted, a slight smile dressing my lips. Jewel placed a bowl in front of him and kissed his lips quickly before taking a seat on the other side of me. "Did you give it to her yet?" He asked.

"Give me what?" I raised a brow, pushing my bowl away. I'd only taken a few bites, but my stomach refused to take anything else. My appetite would return after the Reaping was over –I'd be starving afterwards.

Jewel reached into the pocket of her dress and placed something in my hand. "It's not much, but we thought you might like it."

I watched them curiously before looking at the object in my hand. A circular charm depicting a mockingjay in flight hung on a suede choker.

"How much did this cost?" I asked, looking between them.

"That's nothing you need to worry about," Marc said sternly.

"Had we not been able to get it, we wouldn't have." Jewel told me, smiling. She didn't smile often. "Do you like it?"

I glanced back at the bird in flight, running my thumb over the smooth metal. "I love it," I said honestly. "Will you put it on me?"

"Hold your hair up," Jewel instructed as she took the choker and fastened the clasp.

"Lovely," Marc grunted with approval. I smiled once more and then turned to look at the clock. We had close to forty five minutes left. "Better finish getting ready," he sighed. "Be time to go soon."

Jewel's smile had vanished, as had my own. The good mood was gone, leaving a strained tension in its wake. "Come on," she told me as she stood. "We have to do your hair."

The next twenty minutes were spent quietly in front of the mirror as she brushed my hair and then pulled it into a high pony tail. Two strands were left down to frame my face. Afterwards, I pulled on my shoes.

I was ready.

When we reached the square, I was ushered into a crowd of seventeen year olds and left to simply stand and wait for things to start. My stomach was tight, my breathing was shallow, and my mouth was dry. I was so lost in my anxiety that it took Cherry placing her hand on my shoulder before I realized she was there.

"Day dreaming?" She asked, trying to smile. Her bright blue eyes were just as anxious as I imagined mine to be, but she seemed less tense. Cherry was always more relaxed than I was, though, so that wasn't surprising.

"Something along those lines," I admitted.

"Happy birthday," she said, raising a hand to the charm resting on my chest. "Is this what they got you? It's gorgeous." Her eyes flickered to my dress. "You look so pretty this year."

"Thank you," I smiled. "So do you." But she looked gorgeous every year –every day, really. Cherry had very light brown hair that fell straight down her back, never a strand out of place, with bright blue eyes. Every boy in our class had, at some point in time, liked her, but no one had ever been lucky enough to receive her affections.

"You're sweet." Her smile faded as the mayor stepped up, signaling that the reaping had started. For the first few minutes, the mayor droned on and on about how the games had come to be. He picked through the rebellion, the districts' defeat, and the laws of The Treaty of Treason. When that was over, he listed our oh-so impressive list of a whopping two victors.

One of those victors was sitting on stage, attempting to hug District 12's escort, Effie Trinket. The mayor reddened slightly as he announced said victor, Haymitch Abernathy, and quickly called on Effie to redirect everyone's attention.

Effie was more than happy to put herself out of Haymitch's reach. She stood quickly and crossed the stage to take her place in front of the podium. "Happy Hunger Games!" She trilled. "May the odds be _ever_ in your favor!" (What a joke, right?)

Silence settled over the crowd as she made her way towards the girls' ball. "Ladies first," she practically giggled, dipping her fingers into the slips of paper. She swirled them around, genuinely trying to mix them up, and then plucked one from the bottom. I felt Cherry grab my hand, squeezing, as Effie unrolled the piece of paper and held it up. Her lips parted, she took a breath, and read:

"Primrose Everdeen."

It's amazing how much can go through your mind in a mere span of seconds.

As Primrose's name echoed around me, I thought of the little girl with soft blue eyes and a wide smile. She was a small ray of light in a place like 12, finding happiness in cloudless days and flowers. I also thought of her intensely bitter sister, Katniss, and how the only time Katniss didn't scowl was when Primrose was involved. And then I put those pictures together –I saw Primrose's world in Katniss, and Katniss's world in Primrose. Without looking through the crowd, I could see Katniss's horrified face as Primrose started to walk towards the stage.

"Prim," Katniss croaked a few feet in front of me. She was starting to push through the crowd. "Prim!"

She was going to volunteer –that was the only way she would be able to save Primrose now.

Their ultimatum was this: it would be one or the other. Katniss would go or Primrose would –the Capitol would have one of the Everdeen sisters and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Unless…

Katniss opened her mouth. I called out, "I volunteer!" Everyone heard me, but I said it again anyways. "I volunteer as tribute!"

Time froze in District 12 that day. The pause was short, but it was there. Effie put it back into motion. "How grand!" Uncertainty crossed her features as she said to herself, "This isn't exactly protocol, though..."

I wasn't moving.

"Well come on up, dear." Effie chirped.

"Bay," Cherry rasped, "go." She pushed me into the break into the crowd, into the open. If all eyes hadn't been on me before, they were now. I started forward slowly, away of the gazes that followed me as I walked. Right before the steps stood Katniss, Primrose held close in her arms. I met Katniss's eyes for a short moment before ascending the steps. Effie met me half way and led me to my place on stage.

"What's your name, darling?"

"Bay Laurel Helanthium," I recited slowly. Nothing, my own name included, seemed real.

"Bay Laurel. What a pretty name," she said. "Well, everyone, shall we give her a round of applause?"

No one clapped at first. Instead, silence once again settled over the crowd. This silence was different, however; it was heavy and terse. This silence meant something. The people of District 12 were, in the only way they could, protesting.

The mayor put his hands together and then, slowly, everyone else followed suit. It was quiet, short, and pathetic. I didn't realize I was crying until a soft tear broke on my collar bone. I was desperate to have the attention elsewhere now.

"Good girl," Haymitch laughed behind us. I turned to him just as he stood and started clapping. "Brave girl!" He laughed again. "That's the spirit of the Games! That's it!" He took a step forward and lost his balance, falling hard on his face.

"Now time for the boys!" Effie said quickly, drawing our attention away from the struggling drunk once again. She left me to cross the stage once more. Like before, she swirled the slips of paper in the ball around and picked one from the bottom.

"Gale Hawthorne."

"What?" I hissed before I could stop myself. Of all people, _him_? Why _him_?

Gale was, ironically, Katniss's best friend. He and I had met about two years ago during a game of truth or dare. Cherry had asked me to stay after school with her and I, with no good reason to decline, had agreed. She hadn't told me what we'd be doing.

"It'll be fun," she'd said to console me.

"Our parents will murder us if they find out," I'd hissed. She especially would have been in danger.

"But they won't," she'd said simply. With no other choice, I'd followed her behind the school. There had been one other girl and four boys, all of them older than us. The teens in the classes above us usually didn't talk to us, but Cherry's stunning looks changed that rule.

"Hey, guys." Cherry had said, smiling.

"About time," one of the boys said. He smiled as well, adoration bright in his eyes. I couldn't remember his name. "Ready?"

"For what?" I asked Cherry.

"We're going to play a game," she said.

"What game?" I demanded.

"Truth or dare," Gale smirked. "If you're scared, you can go home though."

I'd stayed. The first few rounds had been harmless enough. The other girl had picked truth and she'd been asked who her first kiss was (I hadn't known the boy). The boy that kept smiling at Cherry had picked dare and he'd been made to climb a tree and jump down (I wasn't very good at coming up with dares). Cherry had picked truth and she'd been asked who she liked (she proclaimed no one, but smiled at the boy that kept smiling at her). And then it was Gale's turn to pick.

"What's your name?" Gale had asked, turning his attention towards me.

"Bay Laurel," I'd responded evenly.

"All right, Bay Laurel," he grinned. "Truth or dare?"

And because I refused to look scared in front of him, I foolishly declared, "Dare." I had expected Gale to appear shocked or at least tested. Instead, his grin had widened.

"Kiss me."

The other boys had laughed, and they'd laughed hard. The other girl had bristled, saying that the dare was stupid. Cherry was shocked.

For a short moment, I seriously considered going home. And then Gale opened his freaking mouth.

"Well?" Gale prompted. "We're waiting." He was taunting me.

"You don't have to do it, Bay," Cherry told me gently.

Now, though, I wouldn't back down. I squared my shoulders and crossed the short distance between us to stand in front of him. "Lean down," I snapped. Back then, he'd been nearly two feet taller. I stood on my toes just as he leaned down. Our lips clashed in the middle.

My first kiss was emotionless and hot. He was experienced, moving his lips carefully and expertly against my clumsier own, guiding me step by step. His tongue traced my lips, brushed my own, and then he pulled away. I was dazed, staring blankly at his chest.

"You need practice," Gale mused. I had smacked him hard and walked away. We hadn't spoken since. Looking back now, I wish I had told him he could teach me, since he'd been so eager before.

Gale mounted the stage, his eyes dark and haunted, and moved to stand beside me. Effie called for volunteers, but no one spoke up. Gale had family –three siblings, in fact- but none of them were old enough to do anything anyways.

With nothing left for her to do, Effie bid us adieu and made room for the mayor once more. He took is stand in front of the podium and started to drone once more, this time reciting the Treaty of Treason. I didn't listen, and I doubt Gale did. Instead, I spent my time scanning the crowd. Katniss and Prim stood with their mother. She had one arm around Primrose and held Katniss's hand tightly in her grasp. Another woman, Gale's mother, held Katniss's other hand. Her eyes were wide, horrified, and spilled tears. A little girl and two little boys in the crowd, Gale's siblings, shared her expression. Cherry stood in the same place and, while she held her head high, she also cried. I caught her parents' eyes in the crowd. They looked sad for me.

Finally, I looked at my parents. My heart broke; I was crying harder than before now. Marc's expression was hard. His eyes were unreadable and his lips were pressed so hard together they were white. My mother held his hand tightly, void of color. Even from where I stood, I could see her frame shaking with sobs.

The anthem ended. I hadn't even realized it started. Slowly, I turned to face Gale. He was still taller, but not nearly has drastically as he was before. Instead of staring at his chest, I was staring at his chin.

"Shake hands," Effie hissed from her place on the stage. Gale lifted his hand and outstretched it to me. I hesitated before lifting my hand to his. Our palms slid together slowly; it felt more like a caress than a shake. During this exchange, I looked up to his eyes. They were dark, detached, and determined.

I realized then what kind of enemy Gale would be. He hunted daily –he was skillful with weapons and quick witted. I found him every bit as intimidating and formidable as the Careers I would be facing in the arena. Gale Hawthorne would be just as capable of killing me as any of them.

He realized the same thing, but in a different way. He would make it to the final few; his real enemies would be the ones coming from District 1, District 2, and District 4. Perhaps a few from the other Districts, as well. But one problem he would not have to worry about was the girl standing in front of him. I would be an easy target.

After all, I couldn't even handle a kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

The hour after the reaping was a time for tributes to tell their loved ones goodbye. Tributes were escorted to the Justice Building, lead to a rich room made to seem comfortable, and left to await their visitors.

I was waiting tensely in one of the chairs when the first knock sounded. I stood. My blood chilled with nervousness –I wasn't ready to face my parents- as the door opened.

Instead of my parents, however, Cherry pushed the door open and threw herself into my arms. Her tears soaked through my dress instantly as she wrapped her arms tightly around my neck. My vision blurred with new tears as I wrapped my arms around her in turn and squeezed.

"I'm going to miss you," she said quietly when she finally pulled away, brushing her hand across her cheek. "I really am."

"I'll miss you too," I responded. "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing that can be done about it now," she laughed humorlessly. Her face softened for a moment as she took my hands in hers and met my eyes. "Don't go down without a fight. The Games are never what we expect –sometimes the people we doubt are the ones that rise. Don't go in without even hoping you might make it."

She was asking me to try to win. I felt my throat tighten almost painfully, fresh tears brushing over my cheeks.

"Promise," she asked, her hands tightening on mine. Behind her, a Peacekeeper opened the door.

"Time's up," he told us.

"I promise," I said quickly. She dragged me close for one for hug and then she exited the room.

My next visitors were Cherry's parents. They were an older couple with worried eyes and tired faces. Her mother gave me a small basket of cookies she'd bought from the baker earlier that morning.

"They were supposed to be for you and Cherry this week at lunch, but… Well, I can always buy more."

"Thank you," I smiled as convincingly as I could manage.

"You're a good kid," her father told me. He wasn't a very expressive man, but his words were kind and I appreciated them. They both hugged me and left afterwards.

The next pair to enter didn't surprise me as much as it should have. Primrose and her mother sat down on the couch across from me quietly. Mrs. Everdeen was pale and shaken while Primrose was quiet and thoughtful.

"Where's Katniss?" I asked.

"She wanted to see you alone," Primrose answered slowly. She finally looked up at me and said, "Thank you for… Saving me."

"You're welcome," I said softly.

"We appreciate it more than we can say," Mrs. Everdeen whispered, as if anything more would shatter her. _Perhaps it would_ I thought, taking in her frail appearance.

The rest of their visit was awkward and silent. I could tell they were both rethinking their decision to do this –after all, they were practically expressing their gratefulness at my willingness to die.

When the Peacekeeper finally came to take them away, I was almost glad.

The next visitor didn't wait for the Peacekeeper to let her in. She slammed the door open, stormed in, and then slammed the door shut behind her.

Katniss Everdeen stood in the middle of the room with her dark grey eyes piercing me. "Why did you do it?" She hissed.

"Well you don't waste any time, do you?" I deadpanned.

"Answer me," she snapped. "Why did you volunteer for Prim? You don't know her, she's nothing to you. And this is District 12. No one just _volunteers_ here."

Let me just say that Katniss was right. District 12's lovely citizens feared death, despite their familiarity with it, and they did all that they could to avoid it, even if that meant standing aside while a loved one was called to die.

But just because she had a point didn't mean I was going to let her talk to me like a child.

"Why don't you sit down and chill out?" I snapped back. "Then maybe you'll get an answer."

Her eyes darkened, but she settled herself on the couch across from me. "I'm sitting down. Now answer me."

I sighed quietly, seeing that that was as good as I was going to get, and shifted slightly to face her. "When I was younger, I asked my mother if she'd ever known anyone whose named had been called in the reaping. She surprised me by saying that she herself had been called during her second year in the Games. Of course I asked her if she'd won, since she was still alive. She told me she'd never gone to the Games: Her sister had volunteered for her. Since I'd never met an aunt, I knew her sister had died. There was a sorrow in my mother's eyes that I had never seen before that day. Sometime later I asked Marc if my mother and her sister had been very close. He said there were all each other had. You and Primrose seem to be all each other have. When I saw your mother today, it was like seeing a ghost trying to disappear completely. Primrose is all you have and you're all she has. I didn't want there to be another story like my mothers, not if I could help it."

Katniss's lips were perused as she listened to me speak, her expression unreadable. "That's stupid," she said finally. And then she asked, "Do you think you can win?"

"I don't think I'll die first anyways," I told her honestly.

The door opened, signaling the end of our visit. As Katniss stood to go, a strange thought crossed my mind. "Katniss," I called. She stopped with her hand on the knob, turning to perk a brow at me. "If I don't make it," I said slowly, "make sure it wasn't for nothing."

She nodded once and then left.

My parents walked in next. I stood so quickly I nearly fell, crossing the room to meet them half way. Jewel's hands came up to cup my cheeks, her thumbs brushing away fresh tears that slithered over my skin.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

Marc spoke with a thick voice as he told me, "Don't be."

"We're not angry with you," Jewel told me gently, placing a light kiss on my forehead. I knew they weren't angry with me, but they also didn't understand why I'd done what I'd done. And for some reason, I couldn't tell them why.

Instead, I stepped into their arms and tried to memorize every single thing about them. Marc's smell of metal, Jewel's smell of cloth, and the oddly pleasant smell our house held within it; Marc's dark eyes, somewhere between blue and gray and Jewel's unseen shade of green; the harsh ripple of Marc's large arms and the soft warmth Jewel's touch left. I tucked all of it away in a dark corner of my mind.

When the Peacekeepers came for them, I felt panic rising in my throat. It was as if someone had caught my ankle and dragged me under water without giving me time to prepare. I clawed and grasped for anything that would aid me to the surface, but found nothing. All I could do was watch as the light above got further and further away.

Jewel kissed my forehead one more time and then she let Marc take her away.

We never said goodbye.

The tribute train was an entirely new experience altogether. My first surprise was the speed –I felt the breath whisk from my lungs as it started up.

"Come, come," Effie beckoned us to follow her down a spacious hall. My second surprise was its luxury. The transportation was nicer than even the Justice Building. "You'll both have your own chambers, complete with a bedroom, a private dressing room, a private bathroom –with hot water, mind you." She opened one of the doors and ushered me in. "The clothes are in the drawer. Wear whatever you want and be ready for dinner in an hour."

I took a scorching shower, my first shower, after Effie left me alone. The water was soothing against my skin, and I lingered until my fingers started to wrinkle. Afterwards, I selected a black shirt with a sheen of black lace over it and a pair of black, velvet pants. I left my hair down, draping the dark red curls over my shoulders, and tied the choker back in place.

By the time I was done with getting ready, it was dinner time. Effie lead me into a wide room with expensive dishes filled with an assortment of foods I'd never seen. Gale, like me, wore all black. He sat at the table with a plate full of different foods in front of him, already eating. I sat beside him and began to fill my own plate.

"Where's Haymitch?" I asked.

"Napping, I think," Gale said without looking at me.

"Well, he'll miss dinner if he doesn't hurry up." Effie scowled at the empty chair across from me. "Should I go get him, I wonder…" She quickly wrote the idea off and sat down to eat. Effie spent the majority of the meal talking about different things we would be seeing in the Capitol. Every now and then, I would try to comment or ask a question, but then I went right back to eating. The food was exquisite, a mixture of familiar tastes and foreign tastes. And as much as I ate, Gale ate twice as much.

After dinner, Effie led us to yet another compartment to watch a recap of the reapings. The compartment was furnished with a large television and a table with two chairs and a couch set around it. Effie settled into one of the chairs while Gale and I took up opposite sides of the couch.

The reapings ticked by slowly for me. The two from District 1 were just like I expected them to be –confident and proud. There was a monstrous boy from District 2 who volunteered, but he went along with my expectations as well. The rest of the tributes were extraordinary to me. It was the same thing nine times over, until it was time for 12.

Gale sat up slightly as Primrose's name was called. The young girl's eyes were wide, her face pale and shocked. I immediately picked out Katniss, pushing people aside to move towards her sister, desperation in her eyes as she started to open her mouth. And then there was me, calling out from an invisible place in the crowd. It was odd to watch as I emerged from the swarm of people to mount the stage.

The commentators mentioned that I was pretty for someone from 12, but it felt more like an insult than a compliment.

After that, Gale was drawn –he was labeled good looking for someone from 12, as well; we shook hands and then the screen went black.

* * *

**So, some things will be the same and others will be different. Review and let me know which changes you like and which changes you don't. And if you have any suggestions, feel free to PM me. I'm open to new ideas.**


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